Speechless
by Tulz
Summary: AU. pre- series. it's a world where psychics are used and sold as slaves, and John, ignoring Dean's protests, buys one who has a connection to the demon that killed his wife and his son. What happend afterward he could have never predicted... notice- this story contains past sexual abuse of a minor. (no wincest).
1. Chapter 1

_Hey everyone, thank you so much for reading. I have been asked if this story is inspired by other stories about phsychic slavery. there are many stories about this topic, and they all have much in commen. my favorits are: Semper Familia by lovely katzenSPN, or Sam I Am by lenelle, or Sammy In Captivity by mentol pixie. for more great stories by othe people, you should cheack my favorits- all great stories, mostly Sam centric._

* * *

John paid the dealer with a stack of rolled cash. The dealer undid some of the locks and the kid fell gracelessly forward, into the cold filthy mad, abused muscles unable to cooperate. Dean could hear the dealer yelling and saw the kid flinching, the dealers hand tangled in the kid's long hair and then he was _pulling him onto his feet by the-_ The night was dark and quite, the moon shone directly onto the pole to which the boy was tied. Dean stayed in the car and kept his distance- he couldn't, wouldn't take part in this. It was a truly terrible thing his father was doing, and Dean was unable to stop it. He kept his eyes trained on the chained boy. He was young, maybe fifteen, and tall- maybe as tall as Dean, even. he couldn't really know, though- not with the kid kneeling on the ground.

The kid sure was a skinny thing, scary thin, ribs and spine poking through stretched tight, pale skin. His eyes were trained down, and on his mouth was that awful device that he sometimes saw on wild bears- a gag that seemed to lock from the inside. A thin trail of blood and drool was dripping from the side of his mouth onto the ground, coloring his ragged, ugly T-shirt with specks of red.

"Stop!" Dean got out of the car and ran towards his father, horrified. "Stop! What the _fuck_ are you doing-"

The kid raised his eyes, and Dean stopped short on his hills. They were huge, and desperate, and _scared_.

* * *

"Don't hurt him, you fucker."

"Dean, we need to get it to the car," Said John. "Don't be melodramatic."

"Sir, I'm truly sorry if I upset you," the Dealer's fingers were still pulling the boy's hair, making him crane his back. "Would you want me to-"  
"Ill get him to the car," Dean said shortly, never sparing a glance for his father. "What's his name?"  
"It doesn't have a name," says the dealer. "There is a number on the collar though, and you can name it whatever you'd like."  
"I need the keys for the chains," Dean answered with a clipped tone.  
"The ones on his hands stay," said john.  
"I can't believe you are actually doing this, "said dean. "This is a _child_."  
"Don't let it's appearance allure you, sir," said the dealer. "He may seem human, but it is psychic. The law stands by our side, you have nothing to worry about. And this one-" he slaps the kid on his back- "This one is obedient and useful. Can't talk back, which is always good. He does get sick easy if you leave him outside, though, and you have to feed him with a straw."  
"How do I take the gag off him?"  
"you don't," his father and the flesh dealer answered together.  
Dean tried his best not to vomit and knelt down next to the boy. "I'm gonna pick you up now, alright?"  
The kid stared bright eyed and terrified, breath coming out in sharp huffs,.

"Ill take that as a yes," said Dean and scooped him bridal style. The boy was rigid and feather light, the only thing heavy about him were the chains, cutting deep into his skin.  
He didn't take his usual passenger sit, but sat next to the boy, who's head was bowed in submission while Dean was working on the locks.  
"I'm so sorry about all this, I can't even-"  
"Dean, hurry it up!"  
Dean ignored his father and the shackles on the boy's ankles finally fell of. He tried every lock pick he had on the ones on his hands, but nothing worked. John sled into the driver's sir, throwing a glance into the back. "you're sitting with it, not up front? Son, I understand that you are disappointed in me. But this one may help us. And we wont treat it badly, as long as it will behave," he sent a warning look onto the shivering boy, who seemed to sink lower in the sit then humanly possible.  
"Stop scaring him," snapped Dean. "You bought a slave, that's what just happen, and I will never approve of that, _ever_ , so don't even try. And this kid will not be our-"  
"Bitch," completed his father, and the kid shuttered, long and hard. He curled into himself. "Its more then most psychic kids can ever hope for, Dean. Stop looking at me like I'm a monster. There's only one in this car, and it ain't me boy, that's for sure."  
"Dad, how can you-"  
"We are not discussing this anymore." John pulled into the gravel road and started the drive.  
The kid hid his face between shackled arms.

* * *

John dragged the kid by the hand, his grip vice like, and keyed the entrance to the shitty motel room of the week. "It-"  
"Don't call him that," said Dean.  
"-He needs to take a shower. You reek," he addressed the boy, who blushed fiercely. John pushed the kid- not cruelly, decisively- into the room. One bed, one couch. A shower and a tiny stove. No central heating. "Great, just… great," mumbled Dean.

"How is he suppose to shower with his hands shackled like this, huh?"  
"He will manage," said his father and turned away, putting his duffle on the floor. "I'm gonna go get some food. Call me if it has a vision."  
"How am I suppose to know?" Dean lifted his gaze towards his father.  
"The dealer says he gets noisy if he has one," said his father, pocketed the car keys and left.

As soon as john left, the kid deflated, tension Dean hasn't even noticed was in his shoulders gone. He looks at Dean with a tired look of… Dean didn't really know what to make of it, but it scared him. "Can you sit on the bed, for me?"

The kid nodded, then moved- slowly, reluctant. He sat on the bed, head lowered. The tension was back, and he shook slightly. He closed his eyes.  
Dean knelt in front of him, inspecting the bridle. It has sank into the skin, cutting deep. It locked onto a collar that has circled the slender neck, so tight that it also has cut into the flesh. On it were numbers and a letter- 2583. J.  
Dean trailed his fingers on the boys face. Then the kid whimpered.  
Dean frowned. This shouldn't have hurt. But the kid hasn't made a sound until then, so it must be bad.  
"Im sorry, am a hurting you?"  
the kid shook his head franticly from side to side, breathing shallow and fast.  
"Look at me," Dean didn't mean to sound harsh. It just came out of him unexpectedly. The kid whimpered again, then raised his eyes. There was nothing there but pure terror, but Dean couldn't figure out why. "I don't mean to scare you. Sorry about my dad."  
the boy nodded twice, quick, desperate look coloring his face in a gray tint.  
"I want to get you out of this-" Dean gestured to the shackles and the bridle. "and take a look at how bad your injuries bad. Are they bad?"  
The kid looked at him, uncomprehending. Then he raised one hand, slowly, and made a motion of _so-so_.  
"Okay," Dean said, gently. "Im gonna take care of you, you hear me? As long as I'm around, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, I promise."  
The kid's eyes grew very wide, the dim light coloring them dark green. His face paled even further, but he nodded desperately.  
"You have a name?"  
The kid shrugged, but there was something wistful about it. He pointed a shaky finger to the collar on his neck.  
"Im not gonna call you 2583, man. It's too weird."  
The kid shrugged again.  
"If I call you Jay, would that be okay?"  
The kid nodded.  
"Jay it is, then," Said Dean.

Dean found the keys to Jay's shackles in his father's duffle bag. He unlocked them and pried the stained metal open. The site was truly awful- the kid must have been shackled for a really long time, that was the only explanation to the mangled state of his wrists. They were infected and bloody and painful looking, the skin so swollen that is was actually hard to separate the metal from the flesh." I have to disinfect that," Dean said, wincing in sympathy. "but only after you showered."  
The state of his ankles wasn't much better. And his mouth… Dean couldn't find the key anywhere, he didn't even know where to begin with this delicate operation.  
"Take a shower so we can disinfect everything afterwards, Jay."  
The kid got onto his feet, wavered and almost fell. Dean rolled his eyes good naturally. "Chick style it is, man. That's awkward," he added. He scooped Jay, who seemed terrified, into his hands again, grabbing a pack of clean close of his. "Do you want your privacy or should I go in with you? I wouldn't mind, you know, if that's what you need. Not in the creepy way," he added. The kid closed his eyed and sniffed hard. Dean carried him to the bathroom, turned on the harsh neon lights, sat Jay on the toilet closed led, and started the water going. Warm water soon filled the bathtub, and Dean was pleased. "awesome," he said, and turned to Jay. "now all you need is- man, what's wrong?"

Jay was crying, silent sobs racking his slight form, hot tears trailing his cheeks. He was trembling all over, knuckles white, eyes shut tight. It seemed that he had trouble breathing like this, with his mouth shut and his airways clogging. "Man, what hurts? Talk to me," Dean felt really stupid as soon as the words left his mouth. He grabbed a tissue paper and pushed it near the boy's nose. "blow, or you're going to choke. What's going on?"  
Jay shook his head, this long hair falling and covering his face. He blew his nose and took the paper from Dean, pocketing it. "Common, spill. What's going on? "  
The kid shrugged _. It must be hard to talk when you can't use your mouth_ , Dean thought bitterly. "Do you want me to stay?"  
the kid went still for a long moment, then raised haunted, ill looking eyes to Dean. He shook his head minutely, then hid his face between his fingers in a gesture that started to seem familiar, shoulders rising up to meet his ears.  
"okay," Dean said carefully. "Bang twice on the tab floor if you need me. Ill be right out here, alright?"  
The kid seemed shocked to see him leave. He left the door open a sliver, and waited.


	2. Chapter 2

"I got us food," announced John as he walked through the door, to find his son curled up on a hard wooden chair, next to a sleeping psychic. "what happen? Why is it not chained?"  
"uh-"  
"Wake him up."  
"Dad, listen to me, listen-" Dean moved into John's space, bodily blocking his view of the psychic. "I know you hate monsters, _and_ psychics. And I know some are evil, and some do abuse their powers. But not all," he swiftly gestures to the boy behind him. "Jay-"  
"Jay?"  
"that's how I'm gonna call him until we can take that… torture device off his face and ask him what his name really is. Dad, he seems like just a kid, an abused kid. It's actually kind of scary, he has some serious injuries from what I saw, and I haven't even checked under his clothes. And look at how skinny he is-"  
"I know," admitted John. "It's- he's no good to us dead, we need to fatten him a bit or it- he will be in some real danger."  
"he's so weak he can't stand without falling down," sighed Dean, feeling relief that his father was finally showing some empathy. "I think-"  
"You do know it's only temporary," john stopped him. "He won't stay with us long, just as long as it takes to find the demon that killed your mother and Sammy. We will sale him, afterwards. This aint no foster home, Dean, and this boy aint no foster kid. Even if he isn't dangerous, he is psychic, and the world will forever view him as one. You can't… fix him, or adopt him, or… whatever it is you are hoping to achieve."  
"How can you not see how wrong this is?" Dean's voice broke. "How can you do this to a kid? This isn't you, dad. This is crazy. "  
"Don't get too attached," said John curtly. "wake the boy up."

* * *

Jay woke slowly, his eyelashes flattering on gaunt cheeks. he sighed contently and leaned into the warm touch on his forehead. It was so sweet Dean actually felt like he did when he used to comfort baby Sammy after a nightmare , warmth spreading in his chest. Then the boy opened his eyes and flinched so hard it actually made Dean jump a little."Whoa! Are you okay?"  
It seemed to take a moment for Jay to figure out his surroundings, and the second he did ,he seemed even more terrified. He leaned on his elbows, looking at Dean pleadingly, then sighing. His hands quivered as he used them to push himself out of bed. Then he slid, gracefully, naturally, to the ground, kneeling with his head bowed, forehead touching Deans dirty boots, body tense.

"What the fuck- Jay, what the hell are you-"  
"He's asking your forgiveness," explained his father, who also seemed a little unsettled. "for falling asleep on the bed."  
"He didn't fall asleep, he fell unconscious, from pain," growled Dean. "Stop that. Jay, get up, don't _ever_ kneel in front of me again."  
the boy raised confused, wary eyes to Dean then nodded quietly to himself, closing those expressive eyes.  
"What now?"  
"I think he's expecting you to do something," Said his dad.  
"Jay, what are you expecting me to do?"  
Jay opened his eyes, then looked at john pleadingly, wet eyed. He pointed to his bridle then clutched his hands together. John sighed, long and deep. "he's gesturing he can't ask you to do it, because of the bridle."  
"I know you can't speak," said Dean. "Don't worry, we'll get this thing of soon enough."  
the kid shook his head sadly, then looked at the floor again.  
"No, son," said john and put a hand on his shoulder. "He's gesturing he can't ask you to punish him because of the gag."  
"Asking me to punish- why would he-"  
"Some owners like to here their property beg for punishment," John looked at the kid, who seemed like the slightest breeze would topple him over, and his heart clenched unexpectedly. "You are forgiven this time, boy. You will not be punished."  
the boy raised his eyes, full of awe, to the older hunter, gratefulness coloring his cheeks brightly.  
"Get up," said John.

* * *

Jay fit into their life pretty easily, the next week. He was unnoticeable, quiet, and seemed to have a minor heart attack every time Dean or John addressed him directly.  
Dean grew to like him. He was a child, as hurt and vulnerable as a child can get, really, and he seemed to be grateful for everything and anything Dean did for him, like crushing painkillers into a cup and mixing it with water so he could Drink, or allowing him to sleep on the couch. Dean offered him the bed, but when he did Jay's eyes grew wary and he seemed to have problems breathing, he was shaking that badly. All of it made Dean feel so privileged to have what he had- basic rights and a father who loved him and a future ahead of him. Psychics, they don't have any of that. He and Jay didn't do anything much. Jay was as weak as a kitten, and spent most of his time worrying over the cuts on his wrists, that seem to bother him a lot. he couldn't write anything because his fingers were shaking to hard and he seemed to have trouble concentrating. He couldn't eat anything with that awful bridle on his face, so Dean got him protein shakes that smelled really bad, but Jay seemed thankful for them nonetheless. Dean tried to take the bridle off him many times, but the last time he tried John caught him and yelled so loud and long that the neighbor next door banged on the wall. Jay developed a slight fever, probably infection that his body was too weak to battle, and was shaking constantly. He didn't look good at all, and Dean was growing scared for him,

* * *

John couldn't find a new case, nor leads on the yellow eyed demon. With each day passing by he became more irritated and snappish. Dean has tried talking to him many times, but his dad just ignored him.  
In the fifth day, John chugged whiskey down like water, desperation evident in his every motion. He got up on unsteady legs and grabbed Jay by the shoulders, shaking his slight shoulders so hard Dean was actually scared that Jay's slender neck will just break in two. "What did I buy you for? You're suppose to have visions, don't you? About the demon that killed my wife and son!"  
"Dad!" yelled Dean, horrified.  
"What a useless _freak_ ," muttered his dad. "Maybe we should just sell you back, boy. To that flesh dealer, I heard you were very popular amongst his costumers. Sure made you expensive."  
Jay hang his wide, fever bright, terrified eyes on the hunter. His body grew completely rigid, eyes welling up but no tears falling.  
"what the fuck is wrong with you, dad? Leave him alone, you're drunk," Dean tried to separate his father's fingers from the boy's shoulders, but his grip was vice like. "Dad, stop, come on-"  
"if you don't have a vision 'till the and of the week, I will sale you back boy, hear my words," said his dad, not sparing a glance towards Dean, then he pushed the boy to the floor and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.


	3. Chapter 3

"if you don't have a vision 'till the and of the week, I will sale you back boy, hear my words," said his dad, not sparing a glance towards Dean, then he pushed the boy to the floor and strode out, slamming the door shut behind him.

* * *

"Don't worry man, he was just drunk, he really is not gonna sell you back, he's not like that," Dean said, grabbing Jays fragile looking forearms and pulls his gently to his unsteady feet.  
Jay's eyes were sad and wide. He raised his look, and for the first time, met Dean's gaze.  
Dean startled. Jay seemed so young, but his eyes… they were old, and tired. His gaze... It was laced with the kind of misery that's saved only for people who have witnessed something truly awful.  
He raised one shaking had, slowly,to Dean's chest, then to his own. The blood flow that dripped from the side of his mouth increased, and Dean realized that a lone dimple showed on one of Jay's cheek, for just one second.  
Jay was trying to smile at him, as if Dean was the one that needed reassuring.  
"I'm not gonna let him," Dean whispered. "I'm not. I promise. I said I'd take care of you, man. I keep my word."  
Jay nodded, but Dean could see in his eyes that he didn't believe him.

* * *

The next day John walked in without a word, heading strait for the shower, reeking of booze and sex. Dean couldn't look him in the eye. He was angry, but mostly, he was terrified. Of what his father might do. Of the man he loved most and adored.  
Jay had a resigned look on his face, as he worried yet again on the cuts on his wrists. His body was slightly shaking, Dean noted, and two bright spots had risen on his cheeks.

* * *

The next day passed with tense silence, until Dean couldn't take it anymore.  
"How dare you threaten him like that!?" he exploded. "How _dare_ you? How do you even know he ever gets visions? For all we know, Jay may be just a kid that has been snatched of the street!"  
"he's a psychic, Dean," his father answered quietly.  
"How do you know?"  
"look," John strode over to Jay's corner. Jay had shrunken into himself, nut didn't protest otherwise. John grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to his feet, then pushed Jay's shirt upwards.  
"What the- Dad, leave him-"  
"on the hip, Dean."  
Dean looked. Jay's hip bones were jutted in a way that seemed to stretch the skin close to breaking. On Jay's hip there was a mark- a burn etched deep into his skin, governmental stamp carved deep into him. And letters under it: _P,V,T,A._

"That lists his ability's, see?" his father pointed, at the letters. "P stands for psychic. V for visions, and the same goes for telekinesis, and apathy. Each time a new ability is developed they can detect it by the collar, and he must be brought for more throughout examinations, to see how good he is."  
"That still doesn't mean you can treat him like a-"  
Jay whimpered. The sound was unexpected after how quite he'd been the whole day, it made Dean jump on his feet.  
"Let him go, you're hurting him!"

John let Jay go. Jay swayed on his feet, and whimpered again.

Then all hell broke loose.

* * *

Jay raised his hands to his head, clutching at it so tight that his knuckles whitened.

His eyes rolled back, and his knees buckled. Dean was there a second to late and Jay fell, smacking his head on the cold floor.  
Blood started pouring from his nose, then his ears and the corners of his eyes, and he was making a garbled sound behind the gag- screaming, Dean suddenly realized. Agonized, loud, screaming.

"Oh god- fuck- Jay! Jay! What's happening-" Dean sobbed, scared as he'd never been before. He tried to pry Jay's fingers away from his head, it looked like he was _tearing his own hair-_

"It's alright, Dean, it's alright-" is dad put a hand on his shoulder, stopping his frantic movements.  
"How the fuck can you say that-"  
"Dean. Calm down, boy. I think he's having a vision."

* * *

Jay's fever rose to 104.8, and his body was twitching constantly, sweaty hair falling limply onto his eyed.  
Dean was scared to move him, to touch him at all, so he set camp on the floor, after he covered Jay's body with all the blankets he could find. he whispered meaningless reassurance to him, though it was obviously useless- The kid was unconscious. In his sleep he still bled from under his eyes.

Dean tried to clean him with some wet towels, that he dipped in cold water, trying to get the fever down. It didn't work, the numbers got higher by the second, and Dean felt helpless, weak, unworthy. ( _take care of your brother, Dean_ , _John said as he gave him Sammy to hold._ _he's all you got, son)._

John left for supplies (Dean hoped he was going to get some medicine) and Dean was alone with Jay, who was crying. tears and blood stained his cheeks, his face got paler by the moment.  
It was terrifying. Jay was calling out, every once in a while. Dean was trying his best to figure out the words he was saying, but it was impossible under that bridle.

* * *

His dad came back with a bagful of yellow pill containers and a whiskey bottle.  
Dean didn't say anything about it. He laid on the floor next to the whimpering boy, and waited for Jay to open his eyes, to come back to him.

* * *

 _Thank you all so much for following and reading, I'm so thankful. would love to hear what you thing._


	4. Chapter 4

"Can't he just write it down?"  
"He tried, dad, but his fingers aren't working right, I think there might be some nerve damage."  
John sighed. "Alright, alright."  
"Please just… let's get it off him, please?"  
"I don't have the key, Dean."  
"So… how do we-"  
"We'll have to do it the old fashioned way, then."

* * *

It was like a scene from a horror movie, blue ray addition. The smell of burnt flesh filled the room and Dean was pretty sure he was going to vomit all over the silent kid. Jay was sitting as still as humanly possible, and John was hovering over him with heated metal cutters, trying to wrestle the metal brittle off his face. Jay was crying under shut eyelids, silent tears of pain running down his flushed cheeks. John kept accidently losing his grip on the thin metal and burning the delicate skin of Jay's face, not to mention the heat transfer through the metal of the bridle. it was scalding- too hot for Dean to touch, way too hot to touch Jay's facial skin. John insisted that Jay would be chained during this ordeal, and though Dean protested violently, Jay put up his buttered arms in the shackles and locked himself in, a look of resignation on his face.  
Dean felt as useless as he never had before, not even on the worst, goriest hunts he'd been on has he ever seen something so dreadful. It took so _long_ , and Jay was so _young_ and _silent_. He hasn't moved an inch, sitting so still with his hands bound in front of him to the bed posts, as if it was okay, as if any of this was okay.  
"Its okay," Dean lied, dabbing a washcloth in ice cold water and over the freshly burnt skin on Jay's cheek. "I promise, its going to be just-"  
"fuck!"  
John lost his grip on the cutter and it slipped again. The wet sizzle sound of burning flesh and the smell that came with it almost made Dean gag. Jay got even paler, holding the bedspread with a death grip of numb fingers, sobbing breath in and out.  
"Shit, Jay-" Dean franticly grabbed his frail shoulders, the slight body was so rigid and bony under his grasp, it almost hurt to _touch_ him. "Jay, look at me, you have got to breathe, man- look at me, Jay-'  
Jay's eyes flattered open- gaze wild and confused and in pain. There were two burns that got close to his eyes- scary close; one on his forehead and one right under his left cheekbone. It looked awful and smelled even worse. "It's gonna be over soon," Dean promised desperately. "I promise."

* * *

Dean made his father stop after Jay actually started retching in pain. The shiny metal on his skin was red and scalding- Jay was sobbing now, hysterically, hopelessly, like the child that he was. Only half of the bridle was off, his mouth was still sealed shut, and he was twitching uncontrollably, muscles seizing. Dean unchained him and gave him some pain medication. The boy fell asleep (or unconscious, Dean didn't know and was scared to find out).  
"you do know we will have to continue once he wakes," said john, who was standing at the sink, scrubbing his hands bloody. _They will never be clean again_ , Dean thought bitterly. _Not after this. Neither he or his dad will ever be clean again_.  
"Dad-"  
"Dean, I don't like it anymore then you do," Said John softly. "I really don't. but we need to know what the kid-" Dean scowled at him, and John hurriedly corrected himself- "Jay, I mean. We need to know what Jay saw. This might be the key to finding the demon that killed your mother, Dean. he might have seen some innocent women die, just the way Mary did. We need to know, so we can save her."  
"Dad- this is- this is torture, it's not- we- oh god," Dean took a stuttering breath. "There must be a way to make it easier on him, he might die from the pain alone. We keep burning burnt flesh-"  
"We can give him some Morpheme I got left from when you broke your shoulder," John said. "but if we use it-"  
"we need to," Dean felt such relief it almost brought tears to his eyes.  
"Alright," Said John and opened the first aid kit, taking out the needle. "Oh- I think the boy is waking."  
And that he was. Jay's eyes flattered open softly, his forehead creased in lines of pain. He pulled at his restraints and then stilled perfectly.

* * *

"Jay, don't worry man. We are going to give you some of the good stuff, you won't feel a thing," Dean said. "Just close your eyes-"  
He didn't expect what happened next. Jay's eyes widened and he started screaming- loud and terrified. The bridle made it impossible for him to form words but enough of it was of by now that Dean was able to understand what Jay was yelling- the word no, over and over again. He was crying and pulling on his chains harshly, devastated look in his eyes, struggling like Dean had never seen him do. For the first time since he met the boy this deficient side has reared it's head, and whilst Dean was happy to finally hear some refusal, it truly scared him to see the boy loose control like this. He was begging with muffled half sentences- chocking on his own tongue, so it seemed. "Ok! Ok!" Dean yelled. "We won't, calm down!" but then he saw his dad inserting the needle into the boys outstretched arm. "Dad! Don't!" he screamed but John had already pressed the plunger, and Jay's screams immediately died off, his eyes growing droopy and glazed.  
"Dad! He said no!" Dean yelled, rushing over to Jay's side, where the bandages on his wrists underneath the shackles already started leaking blood. "He said no! how could you!"  
"I told you he needs to be bound for this," said john calmly. "Lets finish this already."

* * *

And they did. Jay was out for the count, and John pried the metal away from his flesh. Dean held Jay's jaw still while John tore the gag from behind his teeth. It was inserted so deep that it actually tore cuts inside his mouth, big enough to need stitches. But it was off. It was finally off, and Dean looked at the boy's gaunt looking face with awe. It felt like it was the first time he actually saw him. He pushed some stray hairs back from Jay's forehead. "You are going to be okay," he whispered, and for the first time he actually felt like he might be telling the truth.

* * *

 ** _thank you so much for all who are part of this jurney. I am so gratful and so excited about the next episode. reviews are loved!_**


	5. Chapter 5

Jay woke up to the cold and quiet.  
he tried to move, but everything felt numb. He was laying on a bed. Oh god, he was on a bed, and in a motel room, and he couldn't _move_.  
he knew what was going to happen. It has happen before. He didn't even try to get away. he was too cold, too tired.  
"Are you crying?"  
Lily used to ask him the same question. Whenever something was wrong, the kid would edge closer to him with a terrified expression. Jay would always lie. Up until the last night. The last night, Jay couldn't have lied even if he wanted to. You can't lie with your jaw stitched together. And you can't lie if there's nobody left to believe your lies.  
"Jay, are you awake? Can you hear me?"

* * *

it was… Dean. Dean was calling his name, not Lily. Lily never called him a name. You don't need one with the flesh dealers. All you need is-  
"Kiddo… open your eyes. Please."  
Jay obeyed. It's the only thing he knew how to do.  
Dean's face swum into focus above him. Jay could feel Deans fingers- his feather like touch on the skin of his cheeks. He knew what is going to happen, and braced himself. They don't like it if you're too noisy. They don't like it if you struggle. They will hurt you until there's nothing left to hurt. You just die without dying, until the night ends. Until they fall asleep.  
"Hey- hey! Look at me. Look."  
Jay looked. He couldn't breathe right, but that was ok. He didn't mind passing out. Actually, passing out sound like a really, really great idea. Sometimes they didn't even notice if he was awake or not. Either that, or they just didn't care.  
Jay tried to bang his head back on the bedframe, but a hand caught it in the movement and prevented him. Jay didn't want to be punished. He couldn't survive another punishment, and he really didn't want to die alone. Die like Eva, who didn't even have her corps buried or burned, just tossed into a trashcan outside of a motel room.  
"The fever is messing with you again. You will be ok. Don't worry, alright?"  
Dean sounded scared. Looked scared. Jay could tell, by his pale cheeks and his clipped tone. What did he have to be scared for? He is a hunter. He has endless possibilities.  
and a gun.  
If Jay only had a gun. If only he had a gun at the red house.  
"The bridle is of, buddy. You can talk now, alright? It may hurt- you have- you have stiches and stuff inside."  
Jay frowned. The fire danced across his skin and he could understand that whatever sedative he was given, it was beginning to wear off. He could move his fingers suddenly, and he clenched them into fists.  
His face hurt- really hurt- but he could move his lips. He could taste the metallic taste of blood, really taste it, with his _tongue_. He gasped in shock and bewilderment, his hands fling to touch the parched, dry skin of his lips.

"Bet it feels good, to have that bear trap off your face," Dean smiled, and jay felt his lips stretching without ever thinking about it. He was smiling. He could _smile!_

* * *

Dean barked a surprise laughter that rambled in the air. "You look so different when you smile!"  
Jay suddenly realized he was smiling at his owner. He lowered his gaze immediately, hoping he won't get punished, not while feeling this bad.  
But Dean didn't look angry, he sounded worried. "Jay?"  
Jay nodded without raising his eyes. He was trembling. God, he didn't use to be like this. He used to fight, for all four of them. But not after Eva. Not after the red house. He learned his lesson, the hard way.  
he missed Lily suddenly, so much it burned in his eyes.  
"Jay, buddy, look at me, come on. I thought we were past this. Hey-"  
dean turned his head up, and Jay didn't dare to breathe. His body went completely rigid, stiff and cold. It was going to happen now, he just _knew_ it. Dean would-  
Dean didn't.  
He only made sure to make eye contact, and said: "don't be scared. Do you want to drink?"  
Jay felt a straw on his lips and ice chips on his tongue. It felt so good, his eyes rolled back and he sighed in contentment. When the straw was withdrawn, He licked his dry, chapped and stitched lips. It hurt, But in a good way.  
"Are you awake now?"

Jay nodded. He _was_ awake. But everything was still slightly… off. Weird. And fuzzy around the edges. And he was cold. Really cold.  
"You were out for almost five days, bud. I was starting to get real scared, here."  
Jay opened his mouth. He wanted to say _sorry_ , but instead his throat constricted and he started coughing , so hard and violent that he felt blood coating his lips. He couldn't catch his breath, everything was on fire and hurting and falling apart-  
he was _so_ cold-  
 _he could hear the yellow voice-_  
Dean was there, he was rubbing his back in soothing circles, but that just made everything worse. He thought he heard someone sobbing, without ever realizing it was him.  
When darkness came, he welcomed it gratefully.

* * *

hey everyone-  
im really sorry for being MIA for so long. i really hope people are still reading this story, though its been a few monthes since the last update. however, i am still working on it. I finally moved to the USA and now i have more free time, am going to update frequantly!  
let me know what you think, reviews are loved!


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